


For the Love of God

by seaquestions



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Cunnilingus, Face-Sitting, M/M, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, chapter 2 is bonus doodles, nightbeat eats god out. thats it thats the fic.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:27:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21858289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seaquestions/pseuds/seaquestions
Summary: “Hey,” Nightbeat says, petting the smooth surface of Rung's thigh, “I've got a great idea.”
Relationships: Nightbeat/Rung
Comments: 6
Kudos: 89





	1. Chapter 1

It's when he feels Rung's thighs tighten just the littlest bit 'round his helm that he has the thought. And what a brilliant thought it is.

Nightbeat pulls himself up and away, the taste of Rung's lubricant lingering on his glossa. The mech, sitting on the edge of the desk in their habsuite, is still venting heavily.

“Hey,” Nightbeat says, petting the smooth surface of Rung's thigh, “I've got a great idea.”

“…Hrm?” Rung arches an eyebrow. His ventilations are still laboured and his optics disoriented, but he isn't terribly bewildered. Nightbeat does this all the time.

He wraps his arms under Rung and pulls the mech up to his chassis, carrying him over to the berth. Rung holds on, trusting Nightbeat to handle him with care.

Rung expected to be laid out, but instead Nightbeat continues to hold him and lays down on the berth himself.

“Ok,” Nightbeat says, with a silly grin, “And noooow… You sit on my face.” 

Rung's lips can't help but twitch, and he laughs despite himself. The fact that the detective is pointing at his own mouth and wiggling his shoulders around like he's trying to egg him on doesn't help.

When the giggles settle and Nightbeat starts picking at the wires and cables beneath his hip plating with those deft hands of his, Rung huffs and gives the mech a peck on the cheek before pushing himself up.

Nightbeat pulls at Rung's legs, positioning them so that he sits comfortably on his chest.

“Scoot on over, now,” he says, glossa flicking over his bottom lip.

“Alright, alright,” Rung says, complying, “Patience is a virtue, my dear.”

“Oh, there's nothing virtuous 'bout what I'm gonna do, sweetspark.”

Rung wants nothing more than to wipe that smug grin off his face. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, that's exactly what Nightbeat is angling for. Best to give the mech what he wants.

His hips hover over Nightbeat's mouth. He doesn't know why he feels nervous all of a sudden.

Nightbeat runs a servo down a seam in his hip joint and pings him with a general query. Rung can feel the mech's breaths against his open interface panel and swallows his nerves, allowing himself to sink down onto Nightbeat's face.

Immediately, Nightbeat's glossa starts exploring the rim of his valve, running over the sensitive nodes all around it. Rung breathes in and out. For some reason, his partner's enthusiasm always manages to turn him on more than his actions.

Nightbeat laps at Rung's lubricant like a mech dying of thirst. He hooks his servos on Rung's hip plating and pings him again, this time with a small suggestion.

[-want you to ride my tongue-]

Rung's optics flare and he lets his hips get dragged forward and back; soon enough, with the way Nightbeat rolls his glossa around his sensitive anterior node and tugs at the back of his valve ring with the servos of his free hand, Rung starts grinding down subconsciously. His ventilations run ragged, and Nightbeat ups the sensors in his audials to hear the small sounds that Rung makes. The mech is always so quiet, even in moments like these.

“Oh,” Rung gasps, “Mh…”

Nightbeat offlines his visor and lets Rung do as he pleases, the small mech's delicate hands pulling at his helm to get that glossa as deep as it can get. And… There we go. The feeling of Rung's thighs pressing against the sides of his head as the mech rides his tongue with reckless abandon is exactly what he was looking for.

Rung's servos squeeze hard on Nightbeat's audials, his hips shake, losing the rhythm he's built up, and he overloads, letting out his loudest gasp so far. Nightbeat is hit with the overflow of lubricants gushing out of Rung's valve and into his mouth, lapping it all up with enthusiasm.

Rung allows himself to grind down on Nightbeat's glossa a few more times before shakily pulling himself up and plopping back down on his partner's chassis. He feels like his spark is in his throat still.

After a moment where both of them try to sort out their ventilations and regain their senses, Rung leans forward, pulling a cloth out of one of his secret compartments and wiping Nightbeat's jaw clean of his fluids.

“…There goes the most of it,” he says, “But you should go wash.”

Nightbeat nods belatedly, still delirious.

Rung chuckles. “Are you alright? I might've dented your audial a little bit there.”

He gets a thumbs up and a dopey grin in response.

Rung smiles, kisses the top of his partner's helm and stands up to go to the washracks himself, though he has to take a moment to stabilise himself.

As he passes through the door, he hears Nightbeat, still splayed out on the berth, mutter to himself.

“…Tastes like rust sticks.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some doodles cos I Felt Like It.

  


**Author's Note:**

> is this good? is it even sexy? I Dont Know. i've been listening to pussy is god by king princess on repeat, it's 3am, again, and i Yearn For Content, again. gotta do everything by my goddamn self.
> 
> anywho. thanks for reading ✌


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